Better than
by Porntorlls
Summary: Set in an AU where Jason never died, Dick holds a grudge against Batman for firing him and taking on  in his eyes  the much less talented Jason Todd. He'll do anything to get the Bat to take notice of how much that mistake ruined him. Ongoing more to come
1. Chapter 1

_Today in Gotham city an uninvited guest stirred up trouble in the CBD, luckily Gotham's Dark Knight was on scene with the Boy Wonder to put a stop to the rampage which destroyed three buildings, leaving 16 seriously injured and two dead. Gotham is crying out for Mayor Hady to implement stricter building regulations-_

He'd heard it all before. Some lobby group starts up days after a fight and makes rebuilding a nightmare, making more work than they're saving. Not that he didn't agree with them, but if they could just be a bit less aggressive. Although, most of that aggression would be channelled at Gotham's own guardian angel, Bruce Wayne, and that was something he wasn't sad about. In fact, if Bruce hadn't changed his personal post box after a totally accidental pipe bomb incident, he'd have mailed the address to all concerned parties.

It wasn't that he hated Bruce Wayne. But rather that he loved him too much.

Not like a fanboy, or some strange guy with a fetish for big, beefy guys in batsuits, _gotta remember the alliteration with that one Dickie boy_, but more like a son with a daddy complex. Yeah, that sounded a little less messed up than it was in reality.

He heard a something hit the floor hard three floors below him and decided it was probably time to stop watching the news with his friends and get a move on if he wanted to get anything done tonight. "Alright guys, I'm off. Don't forget to lock up when you leave... and God, I had something funny to say but I've forgotten now." He shook his head and pointed the gun in his hand at one of the men curled up on the ground. "Do you still think I'm funny Carlos?"

The man nodded frantically and tried to say something around the gag in his mouth.

"Oh, never mind cooking, I have a bit of a leaky gas line in here, anything could make it blow." He smiled and shot the floor next to the man's head. "Don't worry about waking the others up, they look like they could use a sleep." He waved and dropped out the window, jumping from his fire escape to the one on the next building. "Say hi to Bats for me!" He yelled as he climbed up onto the roof, pulling a second gun from the holster around his thigh and aiming it at the grime covered stove.

It was like watching a movie, when Batman came bursting into the room, sending the door flying. He had one chance to make it out alive, if the kid was gone, he was safe. One chance.

And then a flash of red on the floor below. Searching for other hostages, unfortunately right below Dick's makeshift gas bomb.

"Too bad, so sad Jason." He murmured, shooting the phosphorous bullet into the apartment, watching the explosion like it was in slow motion. He laughed, or was he crying, maybe it was tears of laughter? He didn't know, and it didn't matter, the Batsuit was _made_ for these conditions, Batman would be after him quicker than a speeding bullet, or was that Superman? Things kind of ran together for him now.

He was sure Batman wasn't following him, but he didn't want to risk his hideout, and there weren't many places to spend the night when you were on the most wanted list of not only every cape, but all the baddies too. Luckily it was never hard to find an abandoned building in Gotham, so long as you knew how to break a lock or climb a barb-wire fence. Two things he was an expert in.


	2. Chapter 2

He never really slept anymore, it was a survival thing. One of those Animal Planet features or something, or at least he told himself it was. He'd seen it on TV once, so it had to be true.  
>He'd sit in the corner and try to remember the good times. No one could surprise you in a corner; no one could dodge your bullet if you were sitting in the corner.<p>

All he could remember was Roy and the highs, and the pain, and the stink of sick in a toilet, and the missing hand on his shoulder, the missing fingers holding his hair out of his face as he threw up. He didn't have a family to help him like Roy did. Not then.  
>He'd almost close his eyes and try to think harder about the circus and the crowds, try to forget how his life was. But forgetting was a death wish. Forgetting to listen to the crunch of glass under a boot, or the squeak as a door was pushed open on rusted hinges would get him killed.<p>

So he kept his eyes opened and remembered Roy.  
>His smile and the way he'd look into Dick's eyes to make him forget the sting of the needle until they were both too numb to feel anything. He missed that.<p>

But they weren't stupid enough to put a label on it, weren't stupid enough to mix it with emotions. It was just convenience, plain and simple. An easy high and an easy release, they both knew it was nothing but some kind of fucked teenage friendship. Two boys too scared to live in the real world, a world where humanity was a weakness.  
>And even without labels Dick fell hard. And now here he was, sitting in a dark corner in a pitch-black room, waiting for someone to shoot, some reason to run, another reason to push his memories aside and fight for his life. Because that was all he could do now.<p>

Somehow he must have fallen asleep. He couldn't remember the last four hours, nor could he remember the dirty man that had taken the corner opposite him as a place to rest. He needed to get out; he couldn't risk being here more than he had already, not when he'd been so careless.

He jumped to his feet and swore, kicking the wall harder than necessary, making the man opposite him stir. Without a thought he took the gun in his holster, feeling the weight of the steel and his decision. When had he started killing for no reason?

He looked at the gun and back at the man, he couldn't do it. He had to have his wits about him, if the body was found Bruce would know where he'd been holed up for the night. He couldn't figure out how that would help the older man find him, but he couldn't admit to the twinge in his chest as he thought of taking a life with no meaning. Just the same as the worthless human refuge he disposed of nightly. He felt sick, he needed to leave.

He pulled his mask off as soon as the uncharacteristically warm sun hit his face, he didn't need the whole city knowing who was walking amongst them. It would be just his luck that he'd run into Barbra or Gordon or even Jason and Bruce, so he took the alleys. The only thing that made sense in Gotham now-a-days were the alleys.

Drug trafficking and prostitution ran twenty-four hours in Gotham, but since Jason had been on the scene, and Joker had been bludgeoned into a drooling mess of brain damage, Batman had had a lot of time to clean the streets up. It was his job to make it harder for him, them, because every hero deserves an anti-hero.

It helps make everything a hell of a lot more exciting.

**_Hey Guys! I'm going to try to update this weekly, so don't be disheartened by the ambiguous endings/small word count...  
>One thing I have to point out is that, instead of Jason dying, he beat the living hell out of the Joker, therefore no one shot Barbra Gordon and she still has use of her legs. Now don't get me wrong, I love Oracle, but this is just how it worked out... Sorry!<br>Also, what do you think of Roy? I'm a bit worried you guys mightn't like him, but fear not, he'll only appear in flashbacks, unless you want him to appear in more? Anyway, see you next week! _**_hopefully._**_  
><em>**


	3. Chapter 3

**_Sorry it took so long guys! I made it longer because it took me a week and a half to put it up... T_T  
><em>**

He pulled his mask off as soon as the uncharacteristically warm sun hit his face, he didn't need the whole city knowing who was walking amongst them. It would be just his luck that he'd run into Barbra or Gordon or even Jason and Bruce, so he took the alleys. The only thing that made sense in Gotham now-a-days were the alleys.

Drug trafficking and prostitution ran twenty-four hours in Gotham, but since Jason had been on the scene, and Joker had been bludgeoned into a drooling mess of brain damage, Batman had had a lot of time to clean the streets up. It was his job to make it harder for him, them, because every hero deserves an anti-hero.

It helps make everything a hell of a lot more exciting.

It would have been nice to have been able to use the door like normal people, hell it would have been nice to rent a place like normal people. But he didn't have the liberty of a normal person; he'd been adopted by the Bat. Broken down and rebuilt to become a weapon that was supposed to lay down his arms and let them decommission him.

He sighed and began to climb the rusty fire escape that scaled the alley wall of his newest apartment, previously owned by a somewhat troublesome pimp. And the whole place reflected his horrible taste in design; purple tiger print rugs and heavy velvet curtains that stopped the light from catching on the, not only hideous but also hazardous, glass furniture.

If he'd had another choice, he would certainly have chosen another base of operations, but time was scarce. And to be honest, he would never feel bad about blowing this place to Kingdom come if it came to it. And it so often came to that.

There was a small red light in the corner, one of his traps had been sprung. He moved slowly, as quietly as possible, feeling the knife on his thigh holster, ready to use it if the opportunity arose.

A rat, or rather half a rat, was rotting in the wire trap he'd set up, the miserable little thing must have tried to crawl in during the night. And Dick felt for it, it had only been trying to survive, maybe it was even trying to provide for its family, and now all it had was a broken neck. He'd give it a proper burial if he'd had the means, but all he could do was put it in a tissue box and throw it down the garbage disposal chute, if he could find an empty tissue box.

He sighed and turned to the kitchen, letting his hand fall to his side, away from the hidden blade. He'd need to clean up this mess before it stunk up the place, and he'd need both hands to go through the mess of bleach and gloves beneath the sink.

It was a mistake to trust that a trap had been sprung by a rat in a building that received regular spraying, a fatal mistake. He'd been too wrapped up in the 'tragedy' to realise the danger.

The danger that hit him in the back, hard enough to send him sprawling into the cupboard, grabbing for anything to defend himself with. He cursed himself for leaving his duffle bag at the door, for putting himself in a position that made reaching his knife impossible without injuring himself.

"Why did you do it?" a gravelly voice growled at him. He cursed himself for underestimating the bat.

"Do what?" he spat back, buying himself a few seconds to think up a plan. "Too broad a question really."

"The hostages weren't the only people in the building."

"Gotta crack some eggs to make an omelette." He smiled, finding the small pistol he'd taped to the plumbing when he'd 'moved in'. "How did Robin go? The kid still kicking? Or did I finally get him?"

The bat snapped and leant down to deliver a quick, hard strike to Dick's chest, winding him. "You're no better than the criminals you kill."

"I beg to differ" Dick gasped, "I think you'll find, through evolution, the best come out on top."

Batman's mouth twitched in what Dick would bet was disgust. "I'm taking you in."

"Really? Looks to me like you're letting me go," He laughed, pointing the gun towards the older man's head. "This place is rigged with explosives, and you have a gun pointed at your head, I think I'll be walking away from this one."

The Bat's eyes narrowed and he took a step closer. "Do you think you can shoot me?"

Dick nodded, flicking the safety off.

"Do you think you could live with yourself?"

"As easily as you lived when you turned me away."

"Do it then."

Dick smiled and pulled the trigger, "Gladly." He knew right away that it was a blank that shot from the barrel, and he didn't waste time in sprinting to the window.

"What do you think you're doing big brother?" Someone asked as he slid out the window, "Though, you're not really bigger than me."

"I'm not talking to you is what I'm doing." He shot back, leaping off the fire escape into the alley below. He ignored the pain in his ankle that said he'd twisted it and the jab in his ribs that said they weren't quite healed from the last time he'd had a narrow escape from the dynamic duo.

"I don't have the time to catch you today Grayson!" Jason yelled to him, swinging down on his grapple.

"So leave then." Dick replied, flipping over the younger man and into the busy street behind him. His only hope now was to blend in until he could find another hideout, neither the bat nor the bird would risk fighting amongst civilians like this.

He thought about his duffle lying in the kitchen, all his supplies in a neat little bag for Batman to examine. _Stupid! How could you not have grabbed that!_ He chastised himself, almost growling before noticing the scared expression on the face of the kid looking up at him and walking a bit faster. He could _feel_ the two vigilantes looking at him, calculating how safe it would be to swing down and pick him up off the street. He knew Jason would be yelling at Bruce just to go down and grab him, fuck the civilians, one bump would save them from a lot more deaths. But Bruce probably thought he had a plan, a backup in case the situation ever arose. Which he did, but his tools were in his apartment, he was only standing because of maybes right now.

His phone rang and he almost expected to hear Batman's rough growl on the other end, and shivered in surprise at the sleek upper class drawl that was Slade Wilson's voice in his ear. He was terrified of the man and everything he stood for, but if he was ringing now, he could only help. "I hear you're in a bit of a dilemma kid?"

He'd never been happier to hear Slade's laugh.


	4. Chapter 4

He could see his predecessor weaving through the crowds, clutching a mobile he recognised as an old Wayne-Tech model; maybe even the first one Bruce had given him.

His knuckles were white against the scratched black case and his face was a mixture of relief and terror, he doubted that they'd catch the ex-vigilante now. Below him Dick stopped suddenly, and Jason saw him frown then move quickly to the left, running down the crowded street as the two guardians of Gotham ran above him.

The man tripped and stumbled into an elderly woman, not slowing to help her to her feet when they both fell to the sidewalk but instead rolling with the motion and leaping to his feet again. He wished he knew what he was running from. He wished he could swing down and pluck the renegade Robin from the street to ask him, but the treat of a bomb or civilian casualties was still too high.

"How're we gonna stop him boss?" He asked the grim figure running alongside him.

"He'll slip up."

Jason didn't believe he would, and he didn't think Bruce did either. From what he'd learned about his 'older brother' he didn't seem like the kind to act without a fail-safe. "And what if he doesn't?"

"He will."

He huffed; speaking to Bruce was like speaking to a brick wall. When he'd first become Robin, before Richard had started his vendetta, they'd spoken about Bruce, Batman and their roles as Robin. Bruce was different from what Richard had told him.

The stories about laughing together over the latest idiotic supervillain, spending time at fairs, and even sleeping in the same room, sometimes in the same bed after a particularly horrible nightmare, seemed too farfetched to be real now. All he saw was a man in crisis, a man on the edge about to push his protégé away because of his past failures.

And even though Jason had been Robin since he was twelve, he knew Bruce would never trust him, not after what had happened with his first bird. Six years of loyalty and subservience meant nothing next to ten years ending in betrayal.

Bruce thought he could bring Richard back, make him change, but Jason knew better. He'd seen Richard at his worst and he'd seen Bruce turn his back on him, Richard would never trust him again. But Bruce would never see that, and Jason would pull him out of his obsession again and again until he was just as broken as his predecessor.

An explosion made his thoughts stumble to a halt, as well as the rest of his body, and suddenly he couldn't see Richard anymore.

"What was that?" He yelled over the screams from below him.

"A diversion." Batman growled, looking back down the street towards the origin of the explosion. "Do not lose the target."

"Sure..." Jason mumbled, still trying to pick out his target amongst the fleeing civilians. He saw an expensive looking car pull up to the curb and a hand reach out to grab what must have been Richard, before the door closed and the car sped away. He should be able to keep up, considering the traffic of downtown Gotham, with or without an explosion.

And even though he knew that Richard hated him, he couldn't help but hope that he knew what he was doing. Not because he didn't want Bruce to have to lose his favourite bird twice, though he almost hoped it would happen so Bruce would take note of him, but because he had some strange sense of family, and Richard, regardless of his wrongs, was part of it.

The car suddenly swerved into an alley below him and he almost lost it before he could readjust his course. Whoever it was in the driver's seat definitely knew what they were doing, and they knew Jason was hot on their tail, or hopefully they'd thought they lost him, he'd almost twisted an ankle following them down the small alley.

Obviously it was too much to hope for as the car disappeared from sight once again. He'd seen where the car had driven into an old warehouse, and he knew better than to venture into unknown territory, but he'd promised Batman that he wouldn't lose the target, and he'd be damned if he let Grayson look better than him now.

**_So, I think I need a beta reader, if anyone is interested? I'm horrible at grammar... And I think there's probably some bad storyline in there, but I edited this to my own limitations... Sorry if it's not as good as I promised ;_;  
>...But if you have any suggestions I'd be happy to hear them!<em>**


	5. Chapter 5

Slade had given him instructions on where to meet, he'd told him that he was in the middle of a job, and that if Dick ran fast enough he wouldn't be caught in the cross-fire.

So he ran.

He ran, knowing that he was leading Batman and Robin far away from civilians that needed help, and he told himself that it was their fault for not prioritising correctly, for deciding to follow the obviously spooked criminal rather than investigate _why_ he was running.

He was thinking too much and ran into an old woman, he didn't have time to stop, and he could hear the loud sounds of outrage as he rolled out of the collision and into a sprint. He had no idea where this job was happening or who the target was, but the way Slade spoke said that it wouldn't be a simple gunshot to the head like most of his assassinations.

The ground shook beneath his feet and he could hear the tell-tale sounds of an explosion, a large one judging by the thick white dust that suddenly enveloped the area. The Dynamic Duo would have a hard time finding him now.

He grinned and began to walk with the panicked crowd, noticing the large, expensive black car that pulled up beside him just in time not to gasp as a hand shot out to pull him in.

He almost cried out when he felt the sharp edge of Slade's blade at his throat, teasing his Adam's apple. "Slade..." he managed to choke out, feeling the blade dig into his neck as the car gained momentum.

"You have a tail, Grayson." Slade replied, suave as ever. "And until I know you're not just pulling me into a trap, I intend to use you as bait."

"Who is it? The little brat?"

"Why, does it matter to you either way which one of them I kill?"

He wanted to say it didn't, he didn't want to admit that no one but him was allowed to touch his 'family', no one but him allowed to kill them. "Give me the knife, gun, whatever, and I'll do it for you."

Slade laughed, "I always liked you kid, but I like my toys with a little more _compassion_."

Dick flinched as the car rounded a particularly sharp corner, causing the blade to slip across his neck, "Y'know, we don't all have an accelerated healing rate Slade..."

"And I'm glad for it." The older man whispered, running the smooth side of the blade against the wound on Dick's neck, coating it in the small trickle of blood that ran down to stain his t-shirt.

"Great, the one friend I have left in the world is a sadist."

"I'm not your friend Grayson." Slade sneered, "I'm your teacher and your master now. I didn't save you just so we could have tea together. I saved you so that you could work for me."

"Saved is a bit of an overstatement..."

"Oh, so I should drop you out here? Are you prepared enough to fight the little brat?" Dick lowered his eyes, in a sign of defeat and Slade laughed. "You need a haircut kid." He muttered, running his free hand through thick black hair, using the hand wielding the knife to push the younger man closer to his chest. Dick sniffed in what could only be taken as agreement as the older man stifled a laugh, "Never seen you this quiet in my life."

Dick scowled and concentrated on keeping his breaths even and his thoughts clean, if he had to fight Jason he had to do with a clear mind.

But Slade's hands were in his hair and for the first time in as many years, he felt safe and calm and empty. He leaned into the touch without thinking and closed his eyes, it was as if he'd had a headache for six years and suddenly it was being massaged out. He wondered what Slade had drugged him with, as a tide of exhaustion suddenly washed over him. He managed to choke out "You bastard" Before he couldn't move and his vision started to blur and double.

"I couldn't risk it kid, you'll understand."

And the world went black.

**_Oooh Mr. Wilson, ooooooh.  
><em>So I like Slade, shoot me. Sorry it's short again, I'm not so great at making long chapters I guess...  
>More Jason and Slade in the next chapter, hopefully I'll have it out next week!<strong>


End file.
